


Beguiled by Fire

by catcher in the light (journeycat)



Category: 91 Days (Anime)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 09:05:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7751560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/journeycat/pseuds/catcher%20in%20the%20light
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It may not be romance, but Nero finds the allure of firelight can fill one's head with strange thoughts nonetheless. Takes place on the road circa Episode 4.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beguiled by Fire

He was so still he looked like a statue poised on a rock, the only movement the curling of his cigarette smoke around his face. The firelight cast shadows on his strange and impassive face. His stiff demeanor forbade intimacy, but Nero decided to ignore it and flopped down in front of him.

“My shoulders are killing me,” he complained. “Your horrible driving makes everything bumpier than it should be.”

“Then you drive.”

“I only brought you along because you said you could. What good are you, anyway?”

No words, just an exhale of smoke. Avilio’s chronic silence drove him mad sometimes.

“At least make yourself useful and give me a massage. Pay me back for all the damn money I’ve put down for groceries and gas.”

Nero didn’t expect him to take his joke seriously, mostly because he didn’t even think Avilio knew what a joke was to begin with. So it was surprising when Avilio crushed his cigarette against the rock and slid forward to comply. Nero almost protested, but Avilio’s hands on his shoulders was an exquisite feeling, his long fingers kneading out all the knotted tension accrued since his informal banishment. His index fingers slipped under his collar to roll in small, hard circles while his thumbs pressed against the nape of his neck. It was painful—Avilio was not known for his tenderness, after all—and yet, the warmth of his hands, his moonshine breath ruffling his hair, and his thighs on either side of his face was unexpectedly…seductive. Who else had known his slow and provocative hands? Was this how he touched himself until his breath was ragged and his hips spasmed?

 _Damn_ , Nero thought resignedly, _I’m hard_.

He grabbed Avilio by the wrists. His intentions were simply to stop him, suppress the brewing storm, but the delicate flesh under his fingertips was suddenly unbearably tempting. It had never occurred to him that such a grim and detached man could be so soft.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve had a woman,” Nero said.

“So?”

Nero didn’t really have an answer for that. So what did Avilio care? So what could he do about it? He wasn’t the one getting an erection from a massage like an embarrassing schoolboy, or fantasizing about another man masturbating. But it seemed unfair that Nero had to suffer alone.

He let go of Avilio’s wrists. He expected him to pull away, and would have let him go if he did. But he didn’t, and so Nero turned to look up at him and gauge his reaction as he snaked a hand around his neck and pulled him down. His sullen expression didn’t change when their lips touched, and the firelight turned his eyes a forbidding, haunting gold. An unromantic kiss, yet somehow yearning nonetheless.

Nero pulled him down all the way into his lap, still waiting for rejection, still surprised when none came. Avilio only shifted to sort out their awkward tangle of limbs and finally settled in a straddle. He gave no indication he found this situation uncomfortable or weird, or that he was disgusted by Nero’s very obvious erection digging into him. It was like another day in the bizarre life of Avilio Bruno.

“You piss me off,” Nero muttered.

“So?”

Nero gripped the back of his neck and pulled him down for a rougher kiss, this time slipping his tongue into his mouth. He tasted like cigarettes and moonshine, which shouldn’t have been as appetizing as it was. Nero slanted his mouth over his again and again, trying to slake his unending thirst, until Avilio jerked away to take a breath. Nero was pleased to hear how uneven it was, even more so when he reached down and found Avilio’s own erection straining against his pants. He felt significantly less stupid.

“Looks like we’re in the same position now,” he said. “If you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”

Avilio wordlessly began to unbutton Nero’s pants in reply. Nero followed suit, tugging down Avilio’s zipper to pull out his cock, hot in his hand. He barely had time to gloat over the hitch in Avilio’s breath before Avilio was touching him, running a thumb over the head and sending a throbbing bolt of electricity down to his very bones. Their hands were in perfect rhythm as they stroked the other’s shaft. The friction from their callouses was both painful and exciting, their palms slick with sweat. Nero panted against Avilio’s neck, inhaling his scent, so intoxicating. He pumped his hand harder, faster. It wasn’t enough, he wanted more, he wanted Avilio on his knees in front of him with his mouth full of Nero’s cock, he wanted Avilio eagerly trying to take more in even as he choked on it, he wanted to come on Avilio’s face, he wanted Avilio moaning on his back while Nero plunged into him—

Nero’s groan strangled in his throat as he orgasmed, ejaculating in Avilio’s hand. The force of it surprised him, but even more surprising was Avilio’s shuddering gasp and the sudden warm jet of semen on Nero’s fingers. He hadn’t even known he was that close. He wondered if he imagined the same thing he did.

Avilio immediately pulled away to button his pants back up and straighten the rest of his clothes. Within seconds he looked as apathetic as ever, like nothing had ever happened, while Nero was still fumbling with his zipper through a hazy stupor. It made him wish he had thought to look at his face when he came. He had the sudden annoying feeling that he’d been the only stupid one, after all. 

He lay down with his back to Avilio, sulking like a child, while the latter shuffled a pack of cigarettes. At least Avilio was the silent type. Nero didn’t think his ego could handle a barbed comment right now.

The click of a lighter, and then a soft exhale. “What kind of man gets that excited over a massage?”

Nero groaned and yanked the blanket over his head.


End file.
